


What Did I Miss?

by TheLostWeasley



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, But they don't know where they are, F/M, everybody is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5454194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostWeasley/pseuds/TheLostWeasley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this for my class, Shakespeare & Star Wars where we had to connect some of Shakespeare's play to the first three episodes of Star Wars and this is my final project. I dedicate this to my professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Did I Miss?

He was going to die that day, and nothing could convince him otherwise. The Earth was upset, threatening to spill its sorrow with its storm clouds hanging over Scotland. He wasn’t surprised when they told him the English army was on their way. He just didn’t want to believe it. He was the great Macbeth, nothing could harm him. The forest wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon because forests couldn’t get up and just walk away. It wasn’t possible for someone to not be born of woman. He would be fine, but a little voice on the edge of his mind called him a fool and told him he would most definitely not be fine. When he came across Macduff on the battle field, he should have surrendered right away, instead of making a fool of himself by basically saying he could beat Macduff. The one threat he had left was Macduff and Banquo’s son, but he could deal with that after he took care of Macduff. 

Other than that he had everything he wanted. He was King! …It wasn’t what he thought it would be. He was always too worried about the people who would take the crown away from him to run the country properly. He had his friends murdered! Friends who hadn’t been anything but kind to him. They didn’t deserve what he did to them. His country didn’t deserve the ruin he put it in. He killed his country! The country he loved so much, and the people, he let down the people. He ruined everything with his greed and hunger for power. 

Oh god, what had he done? What had he done?

His armor and sword suddenly felt too heavy. He couldn’t hold himself up, and he fell to his knees, his sword falling from his hand. Tears welled up in his eyes, just as the Earth opened her flood gates. Macduff froze, his sword up in mid swing, probably unsure of what was happening. He looked up, meeting Macduff’s eyes, tears running down his cheeks. Macduff’s face had confusion written all over it. 

“I know I deserve worse, but please,” He choked on a sob, “Just kill me.” Macduff hesitated for a brief moment, brought his sword down, and everything went black. 

*****  
Macbeth woke up to the sun light streaming through the open window, a gentle breeze coming from the morning air. He scrambled out of bed, rushing to the window to look outside. There was nothing. The sky was clear of clouds and the sun was blinding, but not hot. There was no clanging of swords hitting each other or soldiers’ armor, men weren’t groaning or yelling in pain, and dead bodies didn’t litter the vibrant green grass. His hand went to his throat. There was no scar, just smooth skin. Did he dream those terrible events? But it felt so real… 

He dressed quickly and practically ran to the breakfast table, hoping to speak to his wife. Maybe she could tell him what’s going on. Or she would call him a baby and tell him to not let his dreams control his mind. He didn’t see anyone at the breakfast table though, so he went to the kitchen where he still didn’t find anyone. He left the kitchen and started wondering the halls, trying to find someone. He didn’t see any of his servants or his wife. He decided to check outside but was stopped by a voice behind him. 

“Oh! There you are,” the voice said. He knew that voice. There was no way he could ever forget that voice. He turned around, seeing the owner of the voice and his heart started pounding. 

“Shmi?” He couldn’t believe who he was seeing. He never thought he would see her again. She still looked just as beautiful as the day he met her. Her long brown hair fell around her shoulders and down her back, her dress was simple, and her brown eyes still sparkled. Before he realised what he was doing, he already had her in his arms, hugging her to his chest tightly. He buried his face in her neck; she still smelled the same and still felt so right in his arms. 

God, he missed her. 

An odd man, who went by “the Doctor,” brought her to him years ago in a blue box that he called his “time machine,” whatever that was. The Doctor and Shmi both said they were visiting from somewhere very far away, but they had stayed in Scotland close to a year. 

Macbeth had went to the market with Banquo for the fun of it because they had nothing better to do. It was the best decision Macbeth had ever made. That’s where he ran into Shmi. He fell in love with her almost immediately and fell even more in love with her when he got to know her. She was “simple” as Banquo put it, but Macbeth thought she was lovely, kind, sweet, and caring. She was just right for him. 

He was married though. He did love Lady Macbeth. His marriage to Lady Macbeth had been arranged and they were both doing what they had to do to make their parents happy. The date for their wedding had been set before either of them came of age. They didn’t have a choice. They did what was expected of them. She could be cold and unaffectionate, but when she was feeling affectionate and her heart seemed to be warm, she was wonderful. When she was like that it actually seemed like she loved him too. Then they lost a baby and she was never warm again, hardened forever. He loved her, but not the same way he loved Shmi. 

He and Shmi had to meet in secret so people wouldn’t talk in the streets and have it get back to Lady Macbeth that he was spending time with another woman. They weren’t doing anything wrong, but they did it so rumors wouldn’t spread. They kept things very platonic for a long time, but Macbeth couldn’t keep his overwhelming feelings to himself any longer. He wanted to hold her and wake up to her every morning, kiss her whenever the urge struck. They were exploring the land of Scotland one afternoon and he got Shmi to laugh at something, he doesn’t remember what. He just remembers her. Her smile so carefree and her eyes bright with happiness. He couldn’t resist, so he kissed her. For a moment, he thought that he went too far that she didn’t actually want that from him, so he started to pull away, but she held onto his wrist and kissed him firmly. Their affair had started and neither of them cared. They didn’t think about his wife, his reputation, or when she would eventually have to go home. They made sure every moment they spent together counted. 

Shmi did have to go home, there wasn’t an “if” about it. She couldn’t stay and Macbeth couldn’t keep her, no matter how much he wanted too. He had responsibilities to Scotland that he needed to tend to and he couldn’t figure out why, but he had a feeling she hadn’t come from Earth. He told himself that if it was meant to be, it would somehow work out. He believe that for two seconds because he just wanted it to work out. He loved her. She took a piece of his heart when she left with the Doctor to go home. 

Now, they’re here. 

“How? Where are we?” He asked, looking over the top of her head. This place couldn’t be the real Scotland, his Scotland. It was too quiet and there was nobody around except for them. 

“I don’t know, but we’re together,” she smiled up at him, “So it doesn’t matter.” She stood on her toes to kiss him. Then she pulled out of his embrace, but kept his hand in hers, “Come on, I want you to meet someone.” 

“Who?” He questioned, “Who else was here?” 

She stopped and turned around, giving him a sheepish smile, “Our son, Anakin.”


End file.
